


Moral Code

by RyanTheTwit



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: GTA AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 08:44:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3202982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyanTheTwit/pseuds/RyanTheTwit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This wasn’t the LSPD coming to stop the Fake AH Crew. It was another gang, and Michael is unlucky contestant number one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moral Code

So far, the heist was going well. Better than most small heists they plan. The Fake AH Crew hit five gas stations in one and a half hours, no one got shot yet, Lester was doing his job, and they haven’t lost a single car yet. They remembered to kill the cashier, they got in the car safely, and they had the money. The money was split into three cars, so if one of them went down, they wouldn’t lose everything. It was almost $35,000 in cold, hard-earned cash.

But Michael was left behind.

Apparently, the cashier had managed to hit the alarm before he was gunned down, and they didn’t realize it until half the money was in the car. They tried to call Lester, but the phone led straight to voicemail.

“Hey, you reached Lester. I obviously can’t come to the phone right now, so, uh, leave a message. Or don’t.”

“Lester you son of a bitch!” Geoff yelled into the phone. He stuffed the phone into his pocket and climbed into the car, and threw the bag into the backseat. “Michael, c’mon!” he called out.

“Go! Go!” Michael screamed. “I’ll hold them off!” The rest of the crew scrambled into the car. Since Michael was supposed to paired with Jack, there was one car with far more money than the others.

“I’ll leave this car here!” Jack yelled out. She climbed into the car with Geoff. “Call us when you get away!”

Michael pulled the trigger and sent a police car running straight into a lamp post. He gunned down a dozen more police men before realizing something was wrong with the police that were coming towards him.

They had no badges, and they were wearing body armor.

The police _never_ wore body armor. The Los Santos Police Department didn’t have a large enough budget to buy one for every policeman, and it was far too much of a hassle to wear it every day. That’s when Michael realized that it wasn’t the police.

It was a gang war.

Before Michael could think twice about why a gang was here to interrupt a heist, a bag was thrown over his head, and a heavy blow to was dealt to the back of his head.

 

When Michael woke up, his head was aching and he was tied to a chair. The ropes were far too tight and he was pretty sure his wrists were red. The room was bare of anything but a few chairs and single light. A thick, wooden door was the only exit and entrance in the room. Someone was waiting in another chair across from him, a gun held loosely in his hand. His hairline was receding, and his eyebrows were thick, which gave him a very odd appearance.

“You killed Marco,” the person said simply. He gripped the gun tighter, and Michael suspected that it was supposed to intimidate him. Michael furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“I’ve killed a lot of people,” Michael said, shrugging. “Care to elaborate?” The man stood up and tucked the gun into his pants.

“Marco. The cashier at Scoops Liquor Barn?” he explained, waving his hand around. “The one you shot?”

“I’ve shot a lot of cashiers in my lifetime, but I think I know who you’re talking about,” Michael said. “The one that ‘called the cops’.” If Michael could have use his hands, he would have used quotation marks.

“I’m assuming the button he pressed wasn’t to call the cops?” he asked to clarify. The man nodded. Michael raised an eyebrow.

“So what are you going to do now?” he asked, sounding bored. He shifted in the chair. “This Marco dude is dead, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Killing me obviously is a bad move. Tell me, what exactly are you planning to do to me?” Michael looked smug, a smile on his face and his position relaxed. The man balled up his hand and punched Michael in the jaw.

Or at least tried to. The man misjudged his aim and managed to just clip his jaw. Michael grinned even wider. “Nice aim.” The man gripped Michael’s bloodstained shirt, and he drew back his fist again before the door opened.

“Leave him alone.” The man stopped and looked back at the door. “Leave him, Joseph.” Joseph grumbled and let go of Michael’s shirt. He left the room with a mumbled apology to whomever was in the room. “Sorry about him; he let’s his temper control him sometimes.” The man sat down in the unoccupied chair. “I’m Michael,” he introduced. “But you can call me Mike, seeing as we’re both Michael.” Michael snorted.

“Like I care.” Mike frowned and tilted his head.

“Michael, you should care,” he said, his voice careful and precise. “Here’s how this is going to work. You are going to tell me where your base or little hideout is, and we’ll let you go with nothing but all your limbs intact.” Michael raised an eyebrow, and his ears perked up when he heard the sound of metal clanging in the distance. He looked back at his captor’s face and saw no change, indicated he didn’t hear the sound, or he was good and hiding it. It didn’t matter anyways.

“Suck my dick, you asshole.” Michael sneered and spit in Mike’s face.

“Michael Jones,” Mike said in a low voice. “You have made a very bad choice.” Michael shrugged again.

“Nah,” he said. “You made a bad choice by kidnapping me,” he continued in a sweet voice.

As he finished the sentence, the wooden door exploded, sending bits of wood and metal flying everywhere. Mike screeched loudly in Michael’s ear and reached for his gun before a shot rang out. Mike slumped over onto Michael. Michael let out a noise of disgust and pushed him away. “Fuck, you got blood on my jacket!” He rubbed his wrists and looked back at the cut ropes.

“You could’ve killed him at any time, but you waited until we were here? _And_ you’re complaining that I got blood on you.” Ryan asked from the doorway, a gun in hand. Michael shrugged yet again.

“And what? Wait until you guys came along and killed him anyways?”

“Could’ve saved us a couple bullets.”

“We’ve got money to spare,” Michael said, and rolled his eyes. “I would’ve wasted energy anyways.” Michael got up and took Mike’s gun and checked the cartridge. “Empty. The guy was bluffing.” He scoffed and threw the gun away. “You got an extra gun?” Ryan tossed him a loaded rifle and a couple grenades. “Sweet.” Michael checked the cartridge. “Let’s rock and roll.” Ryan scoffed.

“Really?”

“I wanted to use that line for a long time. Don’t judge.”

The pathway to the getaway car was clear, except for a few stragglers that had managed to hide when Ryan came to rescue Michael. When they left the building, a car was sitting in the lot, the engine purring quietly. Michael raised an eyebrow.

“You came here by yourself?” he asked. Ryan grinned from behind his mask.

“The crew thought that it was too much of a hassle to go in guns blazing when a small crew like that took you, so I volunteered to go,” he explained with a quirk of his lips.

“My hero,” Michael mumbled. Ryan laughed before he shoved Michael aside. “Dude, what the fuck?!” Ryan turned and fired a couple bullets before a body slumped to the ground behind them. “Oh.”

“Stray gunner,” Ryan said. He quickly got into the car and Michael followed after. “Hope you’re not offended by my shove. We’re gonna have to go into the tunnel for a bit because someone alerted the cops. Just for a little bit, though.” Ryan shifted the gear out of parking mode and turned into the main road, where he got on the highway. “Geoff already knows about this, so we don’t need to call them,” Ryan said.

After a few minutes of driving and the faint sound of confused sirens wailing in the distance, they drove up the exit and off the main road. Ryan turned left again and hit the tracks, where they started heading for the tunnel. Then they heard the beeping. It was slow at first, but it quickly started accelerating. “Shit,” Ryan swore. “They must’ve stuck a bomb when I left the car. Get out!” Michael ran out the car and Ryan did the same, grabbing his gun. They ran towards the tunnel as the beeping got louder and faster.

Just as they entered the tunnel, the car exploded and sent both of them flying. Michael hit the ground hard, scraping his hands and making his shoulder skid against the gravel painfully. He shook his head to clear his head from the haze that had filled his head, and looked at Ryan. He was grimacing and pressing his hand to a bullet wound in his side. “Shit,” Michael hissed. He crawled over to Ryan. “When the fuck did this happen?” he asked.

“Before we got in the car,” he grit out. “When I pushed you and you got angry.” Michael let out a forced chuckle.

“Look at you, sacrificing yourself for others!” he said, his voice strained and echoing in the dark tunnel. His hands shook ever so slightly. “When did you get a heart? I had thought you lost your moral code.” Michael took off his jacket and pressed it against Ryan’s wound. Ryan let out a wince as he leaned back against the wall.

“I can’t lose what I never had,” he replied softly. Michael agreed. “My phone is in the left pocket,” he said. “Call Geoff ask for someone to come and pick us up.” Michael fished the phone out.

“At least it hasn't been shot,” Michael piped up checking the phone for any signs of damage. Ryan let out a weak grin.

“True,” he said. Michael dialed Geoff and told him their situation. The conversation was quick, and in no time, Michael hung up.

“Geoff said that Jack is going to come and get us,” he relayed. “Kinda funny that every time something like this happens, it’s Jack that’s there to come and pick us up or save us,” he said with an amused smile. Michael sat down next to Ryan, glancing at the blood-soaked jacket every so often. “It’s like she’s our mom or something.”

“Must be a really dysfunctional family,” Ryan commented. Michael smiled with a distant look and nodded.

“But it works,” he sighed. Ryan hummed in agreement.

“It works just fine.”

 


End file.
